Short Stories

Strange

I always used to look up at the ceiling, with my head hung upside down as I sat on a chair listening to the music through my earphones.

If I kept my head down long enough, I'd see shapes in the ceiling like star constellations.

One after another like a slideshow, they would appear and they looked interesting.

Shapes of what looks like unknown mammals, objects and anything of that sort.

I was amazed by how much I could see. That was until someone called my name, asking if I was okay. Or I would just sit up, look in space for a few seconds, digesting what I just saw before I shook my head and continued what I was doing before.

It never made sense, you know, the shapes. Like it was something that I should have known and I didn't.

When my head would hang down, it's like my body relaxes for me to be able to see the shapes quicker.

I couldn't understand it all. There was too much going on and I had much more to worry about, so I left it.

I continued my unknown "object gazing", looking at the ceiling while my head upside down on a small number of occasions.

Sometimes it was like I went out of character, picking up or looking at old things such as a wooden clothespin, with fascination lighting up my eyes.

My sight would trace the patterns on it, and feel the almost smooth texture while I looked at the piece of rusty wire used to keep the two small pieces of wood together. Used to keep them trapped, to do their job, not allowed to be free.

Sometimes I found myself wondering why I cared so much. They were really just "pieces of wood", objects that were meant to do their jobs. They weren't supposed to be "admired" or "worried for". I cursed those "insensitive" thoughts.

Sometimes I would get angry, hatred planted in my mind for who binded those pieces of wood, making them suffer.

I know right? Dramatic. But sometimes I took it more serious than it should be.

I would twist the clothespin, setting the two pieces of wood free for my satisfaction, and in hopes that they would be happy. I would take them closer, my admiration of their patterns increasing, probably planning the death of whoever I caught doing this.

I was going crazy, without noticing.

Going against my own kind,

Thinking it was for good reasoning,

Or was it?